


Spring Fling

by aron_kristina



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Community: thegameison_sh, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-12
Updated: 2011-06-12
Packaged: 2017-10-20 08:47:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/210917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aron_kristina/pseuds/aron_kristina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Victor always comes back in spring</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spring Fling

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the spring challenge at thegameison_sh. Beta'd by C. Comments and concrit welcome.

“Sherlock, you can’t just fucking move without telling me the new address, and while we’re at it, answer your bloody phone!”

I was sitting in my customary chair reading the newspaper when I heard a voice utter this. The man, for it was definitely a male voice, was on his way up our stairs. I glanced at Sherlock, who didn’t seem curious at all about our visitor’s identity, and then I turned to the door just as it opened. There stood a man, roughly the same age as Sherlock, but shorter and not as thin as him.

“Victor,” Sherlock said. “I obviously didn’t need to tell you, since you found out by yourself.”

“Your brother called me when I was in the taxi from the airport,” the man, Victor, said. “It would have been nice if you’d told me yourself. You know I always come here in spring.”

I was rather curious as to the nature of his relationship with Sherlock, since he seemed to be on speaking terms with Mycroft, and Mycroft approved enough to tell him that Sherlock had moved. I cleared my throat.

“Yes, Victor, this is John, my flatmate. John, this is Victor, my...”

Rarely have I seen Sherlock so desperately search for words as he did then. Victor looked at him with raised eyebrows, and when Sherlock didn’t say anything he sighed.

“Boyfriend?” he said, to my great surprise. He didn’t sound particularly pleased though. “Partner, perhaps? Lover?”

“Labels are only useful to other people. Besides, one can hardly call you my boyfriend when you’re only here three months out of twelve every year,” Sherlock said, and I thought I detected a slight note of hurt in his voice.

“Not this again, Sherlock,” Victor said. “I would move here immediately if I didn’t believe you would be sick of me within six months.”

Sherlock was looking out the window, and I had the feeling that this was something I shouldn’t intrude on.

“Right,” I said. “I’m making some tea.”

I closed the door to the kitchen, but despite that I could hear some of the conversation. After I had heard Victor confess his love for Sherlock in words too private to put down in writing I moved farther from the door to let them keep the private moment to themselves. I even hummed a little tune to really block them out.

The tea had been ready for some time, but I didn’t dare come out of the kitchen until Sherlock called for me that it was alright. Of course he’d see the rather flimsy excuse for what it was. Still, I brought the tea with me.

Sherlock and Victor were curled up on the sofa, looking very much like the boyfriends Sherlock insisted they weren’t. Victor evidently saw my questioning gaze.

“Sherlock refuses to call us lovers since we’re only in the same continent three months every spring. I guess he hasn’t told you about me. I live in India the rest of the year,” Victor said, now sounding much more like he found this endearing.

“He said he was unattached,” I replied.

“I didn’t,” Sherlock said, in his usual manner. “I just didn’t correct your assumption.”

I raised an eyebrow. He was much less impressive when cuddled up to his... Victor.

“Though, I’m thinking about moving back to England,” Victor said. Sherlock pretended to be uninterested in this, but neither I nor Victor were fooled.

*

Later that evening, when I had gone to bed, I could hear them make love in Sherlock’s bedroom. If I had thought about it I wouldn’t have imagined Sherlock being loud at all, but then again, the walls weren’t very thick. What could be heard was very sweet, lots of ‘I love you’s and ‘you’re beautiful’s, and variations thereof, which was something I think Sherlock didn’t even confess to himself he needed to know. I didn’t begrudge them this at all, in fact, it brought a smile to my face. However, if this were to continue for the rest of spring I needed to invest in some proper earplugs.


End file.
